


BFFs

by dytabytes



Category: Hellboy (comic), Marvel, Marvel 616, Nextwave (Comic)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dytabytes/pseuds/dytabytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa and Hellboy kill monsters together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BFFs

"If this is the way a ride on your American transit system normally ends, I think I'll stick with the Tube, thanks."

"Oy! I mean, sure, I don't /use/ it much fer obvious reasons, but it's not like the whole 'monster running rampant through the tubes' happens all the time."

"Mm, of course."

"And, y'know, it's not like anyone forced ya to jump into the fight. If you'd followed everyone else outta the station, you coulda been havin' a coffee somewhere right now insteada being trapped down here with me."

"Pfft. They way you were talking, I /had/ to follow you and the hell hound. My honour was at stake. Anyway, I'd much rather be having a cuppa, and they don't make tea properly in America. Did you know that some batty child in a shop actually asked me if I wanted /milk/ in my Earl Grey? Honestly!"

"See, there you go picking on my country again. I mean, do you have something against America in particular? Some Yankee punk spit in your Cheerios last week? Also whaddya mean the way I was talking? I was tryin' to get people out of the way of the huge ravening hellhound, in case you didn't notice. It's not like I had time to write up some sorta fancy speech!"

"You said, and I quote, 'You'd better get out of the way, miss. Leave this to professionals like me.' Like I wasn't capable of dispatching a simple demonic construct!"

"Oh man, not the whole gender-equality thing! Ugh. Look, I wasn't saying that I'm better'n you because you're a chick, but you know, I'm /Hellboy/. Y'know, big red demon guy with a sledgehammer for a right hand. Miiiight be able to take a few more hits than you can. Just throwin' the thought out there."

"And I'm Elsa /Bloodstone/. Do you think I earned that name by smuggling illegal African jewels?! I'm in possession of superior strength, increased regenerative abilities and effectively /immortal/. I'm fairly sure that I'm your equal in the 'can take a few hits' department."

"Oh /man/, is this about the whole 'professional respect' thing? Seriously, how was I supposed to tell you were a monster hunter too? It's not like you had a big sign with flashing lights taped to your forehead, lady."

"I've got an arcane artifact wrapped about my throat, I'm carrying specialized weaponry designed for killing monsters, and I'm wearing a /trenchcoat/! If that doesn't register as 'monster hunter' on your rader, what /does/?"

"... Lady, you're wearin' a pretty necklace an' carryin' a /shovel/. That's not 'specialized weaponry', that's cleaning supplies!"

"Well /someone/ isn't as knowledgeable as they think they are. Consider this: a shovel is easily carried around in public, it's heavy and useful as a blunt object, and it carries quite an edge if you take the time to sharpen it. Almost better than a rifle and certainly more versatile than a sword. Additionally, I carry much /more/ in my armoury than just this."

"What, that guitar of yours? Which, by the way, is why I thought you were some sorta crazy rocker chick, not a member of the trenchcoat brigade."

"Hmm, you mean /this/ guitar?"

"Yeah, tha- Oh. Oooooh. That's /smart/, hidin'g yer guns in there like that. Nice quick-release catch too."

"People /do/ tend to go a little wonky if I simply wander around with a pair of Uzis strapped to my back. Which is odd, considering how loose you Americans are with firearms."

"...you did that just to spite me, didn't you?"

"Did what?"

"Ragged on my homeland!"

"Me? Insult the great United States of America to get a rise out of the Hellboy? /Never/."

"Uh-huh."

"There's so many /other/ reasons to insult the United States."

"Look, I'm not gonna argue with you, because hey, nowhere's perfect... but it's my home, you know? Could you at least, I dunno, tone it down a little?"

"... Hn. If you /insist/."

"Yeah, I think I'm insisting here."

"Very well then."

"..."

"..."

"So whaddya load these babies with, anyway?"

"Bullets?"

"No, I mean, you got anything special? For the tough ones?"

"What, like silver-plated rounds dipped in holy water and blessed by a nun?"

"... Yeah, that kind of stuff."

"No, of course not. I operate on the policy that if you shoot it enough, it'll eventualy stop moving."

"Huh. That work for you?"

"Well I'm sitting here in the ruins of a subway tunnel instead of in a grave."

"You gotta point there."

"Oh, I usually do... Do you smell that?"

"You mean the eau de hellhound that's wafting from down thataway or your perfume? I like the cinnamon by the way. Adds a nice touch."

"I meant the hellfire and brimstone stench that's been floating on the breeze, but thanks... the cinnamon's the smell of my bootshine, though. I don't wear scents."

"Huh. Didn't realize you could /get/ bootshine that didn't smell like crud."

"It's an old family recipe that keeps the leather supple for longer."

"Yeah? Maybe I could get it from you?"

"Perhaps /after/ we rid ourselves of the slobbering fiends dashing towards us?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Ooooof. Off we go!"

"Hold up! Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'ladies first'?"

"I thought you didn't want me treating you special 'cause you've got girly bits."

"Hmm. Touche."

~

An Improbable Epilogue:

"And that, darling boy, is the story of my time in America."

"But... mother, you said that I was named after my father!"

"You are."

"But Hellboy's name is /Hellboy/. I /can't/ be named after him!"

"Abraham, darling, I said you were concieved in America. I never said your father was /Hellboy/. Now go to bed. We're battling demons of the fifth circle of hell tomorrow and you need your sleep."


End file.
